REborn
by ApocAlypse316
Summary: 1 month after the events in Africa. All is returning to normal until Claire is confronted by a woman named Rachael Stone who reveals that Steve is still alive and that Wesker was the least of their problems.
1. Prolouge

REborn

Prologue

1 month after the events in Africa…

"…and sixty cents is your change, have a nice day." the clerk said with a smile, handing Claire her newly bought Levi's.

"Thanks, you too." she took the bag and left Macy's for the main lobby of the mall.

As she made her way down the congested lobby, a snack machine caught the vixen's eye. She paused for a moment, wondering if she should satisfy her sweet tooth. "Why not." she whispered to herself. She used the two quarters of her sixty cents to treat herself to a Snickers. A moment after the button combination registered, the machine relinquished its contents to the girl. Immediately after obtaining the treat, she began enjoying its chocolaty goodness.

It had been awhile since she'd had a candy bar, or had the time to enjoy one. What with Jill being back and Wesker finally gone, things were finally looking up. Sure there would still be the occasional case of bioterrorism in the world, but nothing like what had been happening prior to Wesker's demise. It was only in the last few years that she was finally able to leave the events of Raccoon City, Rockfort, and Antarctica in the past. She had struggled with horrific nightmares of the events over the past few years following her run-ins with Umbrella.

However, the primary source of her grief was not the horrendous creatures that she had encountered, but a charming young man she had met on Rockfort Island, Steve Burnside. She had only just met him that same day and yet she connected with the boy on an emotional level. Her heart was ripped out of her chest, however, when he met his untimely demise at the hands of the banshee Alexia. She struggled for the next several years to come to terms with her loss. The pain could be compared to the loss of her parents 7 years prior to the incident. But eventually she trained herself to let go of him entirely, she didn't want to but she knew it was the only way that she could find piece in the chaotic storm that was her mind.

Just as Claire neared the exit, she thought it might be nice to just sit and relax for a moment. So, once she found a suitable bench, she did just that. Claire sat her bags on her left and assumed a more relaxing, slouched position. Just as she took another bite, the vibration of her black berry broke Claire's relaxation. She wasted little time removing the phone from her pocket giving a week laugh, opening her device. It was a stupid chain message from her friend Rebecca Chambers.

She met Rebecca shortly after Antarctica and they have been good friends ever since. Without the support of Becca, Jill, and her brother, she would probably still be in that dark place, or even worse. Claire owed them a lot.

"Alright…" she sent the message to her friend Tory (she met her while working for Terra Safe). She laughed softly to herself as she placed the phone back into the confines of her weathered blue jeans.

The bench she was sitting on had another attached to its back facing the opposite direction. After finishing the last of the Snickers, she discarded the rapper into a large trash can to her right. Suddenly the weight of the bench shift ever so slightly in the opposite direction. This slight disturbance was caused by a woman, not much older than Claire. She turned her head and eyes just enough to notice that the woman had long black hair that just managed to pass her shoulders. As the woman crossed her legs and assumed a more comfortable position with her arms stretched out across the back of the bench, Claire resumed her own business.

She reached into her purse and retrieved a bottle of Aquafina that she had brought from home, to satisfy the dryness in her throat caused by the chocolate. Just as Claire began to quench her thirst, she was startled by an unfamiliar, feminine, voice come from behind her.

"Claire Redfield?" it asked.

Nearly chocking from the surprise question, she began to turn to face the woman, "Yes? but how do you…"

"Don't turn around." she commanded. Claire stopped herself from turning the rest of the way. "Just act casual and listen."

Claire was not only curious to find out who this was and how she knew her name, but she was a bit irritated. "Now wait just a minute…."

She was cut off again by the woman with the same phrase, but this time it was the other female that was irritated, "I said, DON'T turn around…please?" what started as a command ended as a plea.

Claire didn't know exactly what to do or think now. So she just turned around and acted as if nothing was going on, just like the woman had asked.

"Thank you." she added apologetically. "Now, I need you to please stay calm for what I'm about to tell you."

The first thing that shot through her mind was 'Oh God…Chris'. Or maybe something, god forbid, happened to Jill again. Claire never would have guessed the next three words to come out of the stranger's mouth, but once they did, she immediately understood why the woman told her to stay calm.

She hesitated for a moment, but then broke the silence, "Steve is alive."

In that moment, all of those memories of her past came rushing back. She felt a deep sinking feeling in her chest. But soon those terrible thoughts were replaced by warm ones, thoughts of the boy that she met at that prison. Unfortunately, just as she began to reminisce on the good memories she shared with him (before he was taken from her) the truth set in. "Oh god," she whimpered softly, "S-Steve?" Claire could feel her eyes getting glossy. She began to ponder about the hell that he had probably been through because of that stupid virus that he was taken for in the first place.

"Relax, he had a rough few years, but he's been fine ever since, just in prison."

She was good. The woman could tell what Claire was thinking just by the sound of her voice. And judging by the way that she was covertly relaying this information to her, she wasn't supposed to be doing this.

The woman paused for a moment, and then calmly continued. "When you get home you'll find a large orange envelope that I slid under your door, in it is all of Steve's files."

Claire's eyes grew wide in shook. Who the hell was this? How the hell does she know where I live? And how does she know about Steve? If she knew all this, then she had to know how Claire felt about Steve. But perhaps the most perplexing question of all; why the hell was she doing this?

"I'll come by your apartment at exactly 9:30 tonight…I'll explain everything then."

Claire couldn't stand it anymore, she had to know who this was. "How…" but as she turned to face her, she was gone. Without giving any hint or disruption in the bench, she had simply disappeared. Claire had a lot to think about; who the hell was she? How did she find me and know where I lived? But most importantly of all…Steve was alive.

It was 9:28 and the anticipation was killing her. She had gotten home several hours before and found the envelope that the woman had told her about. The files were spread out all over the coffee table and she combed through them what seemed like 1000 times. There were no current pictures of Steve, just his mug shot from Rockfort.

Claire was in the kitchen pouring herself her 4th cup of coffee. Her brown hair wasn't confined in its usual ponytail but flowing freely almost to the small of her back. She was also dressed more comfortably; sweat pants and a plain black tank top.

After pouring the cup she made her way back into her dimly lit living room. It wasn't messy at all; Claire was a pretty tidy person, especially when it came to her own personal space. She took a seat on the couch and leaned forward, gently blowing on the piping hot coffee before taking a sip. The girl hesitated for a moment after taking a drink, glancing over the table at all of the files. After a moment her eyes settled on the small pocket sized picture of Steve. She traded her cup for the portrait of the boy. She held it gently with both hands. Claire gave a soft smile and whispered to herself, "Steve."

Immediately after the phrase, there was a steady knock on the door. This disruption brought her out of her fantasy. She turned her gaze to her digital clock that was sitting atop her entertainment center. It was exactly 9:30. After gathering herself, Claire made her way to the door not knowing exactly what to expect. At this point, anything could happen. She took a deep cleansing breath, and grasped the knob. Finally, she would find out the identity of the woman who had changed her life in a matter of seconds by uttering three words that Claire had secretly wanted to hear for a long time, "Steve is alive." It was time. With a twist and a gental pull, the door slowly opened. Claire peeked up through her bangs to lock eyes with the woman.

No doubt it was her, but she looked a lot different than Clare had originally anticipated. She was expecting some tough gritty woman that had spent her life killing. But she was the opposite. She had gorgeous green eyes, long black hair, and a figure that any woman would die for. The only flaw that could be seen on her otherwise flawless face was a small mole in the lower right corner of her mouth. Her attire was simple though; skin tight blue jeans, black leather jacket with a simple white undershirt that clung to her curves, and black running shoes. But Claire soon realized that under her beautiful exterior, she was troubled. She had noticed the dark bags under her eyes, suggesting that she had lost alot of sleep or was under a lot of stress(probably both).

"H-Hey Claire." She forced a smile.

Claire hesitated at first, but then reluctantly invited her in. "Have a seat." she offered.

She accepted her offer, "Thank you."

"Would you like some coffee…or something to drink?" offered Claire.

"No thanks." She glanced over the messy table as Claire returned to her seat on the couch. She gave a sarcastic chuckle, "Well...I guess you found envelope?"

Claire shot a smile in her direction as she took another sip of her hot beverage. But Claire was done with small talk; she was ready for the truth. "Care to start from the beginning?" her tone was stern but still gentle.

"…my name is Rachael Stone." She could tell that Claire was ready to learn more about Steve. "First things first…how far are you willing to go for Steve?"

Without skipping a beat, without a second thought, she gave her answer, "As far as I have to." Claire had already considered this from the moment Wesker uttered the phrase, "Maybe he'll come back just as I did…to see your sister again." Because she knew that he would do the same for her.

"Good…I knew I came to the right person." What she did next was more surprising for Claire than her last phrase. Rachael reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out a PDA. However, it was turned off. She took a deep breath then told Claire her story. "I first met Steve about 5 years ago, when I still worked for the _organization _that I just recently left."

"Organization? What's it called?" Claire was puzzled.

"It doesn't really have a name Claire, and I know for a fact you've never heard of it," She gave a sarcastic cackle, "they spend way too much money to make sure that you and everybody else remain oblivious to its existence."

"They?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you here…but I promise you'll find out."

Claire understood now that there was something a lot bigger going on than just Steve being alive.

"When I first met Steve, he wasn't the most talkative person in the world, cute but not very talkative."

Claire couldn't help but be just a little jealous, "Hey now." giving a soft smile. The tension in the room was beginning to unwind

She chuckled, "Relax…I don't think he liked me too much. He didn't say a word to me for the first year that I was assigned to watch him." Claire was caught off guard by what she said next. "But when he finally opened up…you were the only thing he wanted to talk about."

She was speechless, after all this time he still loved her. Claire could feel tears building in her eyes, but she couldn't stand the feeling of not having him anymore. She didn't care what it took; Claire wanted Steve back. "Please," she asked whipping a single tear from her cheek, "…just tell me how to get him back. I'll do anything."

Rachael could tell that she was more than ready. "Okay." she said softly preparing herself to tell Claire the hell that she would have to go through to get her knight in shining armor back. She pushed the PDA closer to Claire and continued, "Turn this PDA on a ten o'clock. Don't look at what's on it…just turn it on and go to bed."

Claire picked up the device and glanced at the clock. "Really...is that all?"

"I wish…" all facial expressions dropped off of her face, "at exactly 4:30 a.m., give or take a few minutes, two men will break into your apartment and take you."

Claire couldn't believe what she had just heard, "WHAT!?" she was furious.

Rachael stopped her before she got more enraged, "Claire, you either get taken this way or in a body bag!"

She was calmed, but only for a moment, "Well how the hell do you know they won't just kill me…"

She was cut off by Rachael, "Because I've worked for them long enough to know how this will go down. I've done it enough times to know!" Rachael looked away in disgust, not for Claire but for herself.

She didn't exactly understand why…but she believed her.

"…they'll sedate you and you'll either wake up in a cell or you'll be taken to one later."

As soon as she said cell, the terrible memories of Rockfort came rushing back, "Of course a prison." she added sarcastically. Claire was now terrified about what she had agreed to, but the fear soon subsided with the mere thought of being able to see Steve again.

"There is something else you need to know," Claire listened in, anxious to hear what she had to say, "…I don't know exactly what but…"

"…what?"

"…they're planning something, something big." She turned to Claire, "I don't know what but if the rumors I've heard were even close to the truth…then everyone, everywhere…is in deep shit." After that was said, Rachael glanced towards the clock noticing that it was seven minutes till ten. Rachael realized that her time was now extremely limited before _they _found her. She gently got up and headed for the door, casually.

"W-Wait a minute..." Claire was right behind her. She didn't seem tense anymore, she seemed…at piece. Rachael opened the door but stood for a moment in the threshold, turning to Claire. "Were you going?"

She hesitated for what she was about to tell her, not wanting to believe it herself, but she knew it was coming. "Claire…you can't just…walk away from something like this organization after working for them for 10 years." Claire was a bit dumbfounded; she wasn't sure what she was saying, but Rachael soon explained it for her. "Claire…they're going to kill me."

"What!?" she couldn't believe what she had heard? But after thinking about it for a moment, she didn't find it that hard to believe.

"But I assure you that they won't know anything about our little transaction…I'm good at what I do." She wasn't proud of it, but she was. "Claire, one more thing," she softly rested a hand on her left shoulder, and Claire listened, "You can trust the inmates, but not the gaurds." After that was said she disappeared into the night, closing the door behind her.

Claire made her way to the PDA and waited for the clock to strike ten. It was 9:59. She held it in her hands and thought about what she was about to get herself into For all she knew this could just be some big conspiracy against her. It could be some ploy just to get to Chris. For all she knew that PDA could explode in her face, killing her instantly. As these doubts began to fill her mind, Claire glanced at the table and noticed the picture of Steve once more. Suddenly all of those terrible thoughts, those doubts, cleared her mind. If there was even the slightest chance that Steve was alive and well, she had to risk it.

The clock struck ten and it was the moment of truth. Claire reluctantly turned on the device. Claire flinched fearing the worst, but nothing. It just turned on. She gave a hard exhale of air fallowed by a, "Thank God." The girl sat the machine on the table and turned out the light. She hesitated for a moment before leaving, wondering if she had done the right thing. But that thought soon fled her mind, there was no going back now. Claire calmly made her way to her bathroom to take what could be her last shower.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Exchanging Pleasantries

It was cold, dark, and quiet. Same as it had been for the past 9 years. I was just starting to fall asleep on the upper bunk when I was interrupted by one of the many fine guards at this _installation_.

As I leaned over to shoot the guard a disgruntled look for disturbing me, but I was stopped by the barrel of his gun followed by, "Don't try anything."

"Wasn't planning on it." I replied with sarcasm.

It didn't take long for me to notice what all the commotion was about. I was getting a new cell mate. A woman, and an attractive one at that. But what the hell was a girl like that doing here?

Two guards slowly escorted the poor girl into the cell. From the grins on their faces and the look of violation on hers, I could tell that they probably violated her personal space. If I were there, I would have punched their stupid smiles down their throats before they even had a chance to touch her. That was something that I just couldn't tolerate at all, disrespect towards women. It's just not right.

She stood in the doorway, staring at the cold concrete floor in disbelief. She had already changed into her new uniform; orange pants, an orange button up shirt with her I.D. number 267 across the back, and no shoes(like it would really kill them to let us have shoes). One of the guards unlocked the steel shackles that restrained her feet and bound her hands. The look on the other man's face was one of lust as he took his time enjoying the young woman's feminine prowess. She knew that he was looking at her but she did her best to ignore him. After a moment of fiddling with the shackles, the man removed them and simply left the cell as surprisingly as they came.

Just before leaving, the man who loved to ogle the girl hesitated for one last look.

He stopped his glare at her rear before disappearing down the dark corridor, "Damn…I miss it already."

As soon as the men left, she traded a look of discontent for one of anger. Her open hands turned to fist, and tears soon began to flow from her sky blue eyes. Shortly afterwards, she noticed I was watching her. She tucked into the bed below in embarrassment.

"Hey…" I said softly trying not to upset her further.

"Just…leave me alone!" she ordered through her sobbing.

I didn't say anything; I figured it would be best to just leave her alone for now.

About an hour and a half later, I made my way silently off the top bunk to answer the call of nature. While I was up, I figured it would be a good idea to check on the girl. She was dead asleep, but I could tell that she could use a blanket. So after taking a leak, I made the girl a little more comfortable with some spare blankets. I ventured back into my oh so comfy bunk. I was hoping that tomorrow she would be in a little more of a talkative mood, but if not she had plenty of time to adjust. After all, she was in prison.

It was a quarter till eight in the morning when I woke up, like I did every fucking morning since I've been here. No one else in the cell block was up. Luckily for the girl, I remembered that she was down there before I made my usual leap off of the top bunk. Instead I quietly made my way down, careful not to wake her. I hesitated for a moment once off my bed and glanced at the girl. She was still fast asleep. I could only hope that she would be ready to come to terms with where she was and hopefully shed some light on how she ended up here. If she could tell me how she got here, maybe she could help me figure out where I've been for the past 9 fucking years.

I went about my morning workout for the next 15 minutes, trying to be as restrained as I possibly so not to wake the girl. Just as I finished my routine I heard Blake whisper from the cell to my right, "Hey Robert? How's the girl?"

I made my way to my cell door and leaned against the left wall, "She's still asleep." Blake was an ex marine, or at least that is what he is now that he's here. "I was gonna talk to her when she woke up."

We were interrupted by the sound of a buzzer and guards bringing in our breakfast.

"Meal time!" one of the men yelled. The first stop of the two men was at the cell of Damien. He was in the cell directly across from me. Neither Blake nor I know anything about this man other than his first name. He hasn't said a word since he first arrived about 5 years ago. His hair is light brown and only a quarter of an inch thick. He is also covered from head to toe in extravagant tattoos and is built like a stone wall. My guess is that he was in some branch of the service. The only real thing that makes me think this is my gut, all of the man's tattoos are abstract and only he knows the meaning to them. Then again I could be wrong; he could actually deserve to be here. All I know is he would be one of the last people in the world that I would want to mess with.

Next was Blake's cell, then finally mine and the girls. One unlocked the door and the other entered with the food. Luckily it was Mike, the one guard in the whole damn prison that actually had a heart. He sat the two tarnished plates of food on the double wide dresser that I had across from my bed. He then glanced at the girl for a moment then opened up one of the drawers on the side of the dresser that he knew I didn't use. He left the cell and walked just out of sight while the other man guarded the still open cell door with his rifle shouldered.

I took a second to glance at the girl to see if the noise had waked her up. She shifted positions but was still asleep. A few moments later, Mike returned with a few sets of small orange prison garbs for the women. He placed them in the drawer and closed it quietly. Before leaving he turned to me, "Have you talked to her?"

"Not yet…just waiting for her to wake up."

"Well, I'll see you two at 5 for dinner." he said leaving and sealing me back into this concrete hell hole. But at least the scenery got a little better.

Before I ate my "wonderful" breakfast of bacon and eggs, I figured I should freshen up before the girl woke up. You see, this isn't quite your typical prison. Since the inmates aren't allowed to leave there cell for any reason, unless they are being relocated, our lodgings are larger than normal prisons. We actually have our own showers and toilets. Surprisingly we are also allowed to have a lot of really surprising things that would be considered dangerous for the inmates and the guards; like various items for dental and personal health, and perhaps best of all, television. That doesn't mean they treat us any better than a regular prison…unfortunately.

After I pulled my new cloths from the confines of my dresser, I grabbed a towel and wash cloth from a shelf next to the opening of my bathroom. I looked one final time at the girl before passing through the curtain that separated the two rooms. I stripped down and turned on the faucet to the ancient shower. The water was bitterly cold and made my skin tighten from the shock, but I stood firm, refusing to back away. I just embraced it and waited patiently for the water to warm up several seconds later.

A few minutes after I started showering, I heard my guest stirring. I could hear the sound of her bare feet making their way to the reinforced steel bared door. No crying this time though. By this time I had finished and was drying off. I put on my boxers first then my bright orange prison pants. I almost walked out without a shirt but I stopped myself at the curtain. I glanced down at my…uniquely scared torso. I honestly wasn't worried about her judging I just really didn't feel like explaining something that I thought she would never understand. Little did I know she knew a lot more than I would have ever imagined.

After pulling the shirt down over my mid section, I took a final cleansing breath and calmly passed through the discolored drape. I realized that she was still oblivious that I was a mere 10ft behind her. I crept closer. When I gained about 4ft, I decided to make my presence known with a simple gesture, "Did ya sleep ok?" I frankly asked tossing my dirty articles into the cold stone corner of the cell.

She remained firm, at first. Several seconds later she turned and looked at me for a moment before dropping on the bed. She sat staring at the grey floor; resting her elbows on her knees and interlocking her fingers still trying to come to terms with where she was. After a moment of silence, she broke it with a question that I was not expecting,

"I'm…I'm sorry I was such a bitch last ni..."

"Please you have NOTHING to apologize for." I added instantaneously.

She sent a soft apologetic smile my way, "Di…did you cover me with that blanket?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

"I didn't wake you up or anything just now did I?" I asked.

"No no, you were fine. I needed to wake up any way." she added quietly.

I sat at the opposite end of the bed trying not to make things more awkward then they already were. She wasn't acting at all like I thought she would, she seemed to already know that I didn't deserve to be here. That didn't really make me nervous, just curious.

After a brief pause I introduced myself. "Robert." I stated with an out stretched hand.

She stared at it, but to my surprise she grasped it, "Claire." she said softly.

"Can I ask you something Claire?" I asked as I withdrew my hand.

"S-sure, what is it?"

"Do you have any idea where you are?" she looked at me puzzled. I realized I may not have worded my question properly. "I mean, I know you know you're in a prison but I mean do you have any idea where the prison itself is located?"

She thought about it for a moment, "N-No they had a bag over my head the whole time…why?"

I chuckled, "Haha…yeah I've been here for almost 9 years and I have no clue where I am."

She turned and looked at me owl eyed, "Are you serious!?"

"They do the same to everyone I think. But yeah I have NO idea where I am, but anyway, you hungry?" I hoisted myself up with the bars of the upper bunk and presented Claire with one of the plates.

She forced a smile and took it slowly, "Thanks." She looked it over with surprise, "This actually looks like food." she added with sarcasim.

As she started in on her breakfast, I realized something about the girl. She wasn't at all what I expected. Last night she appeared to be your typical cheerleader 'OH MY GOD! Like nooo way!' type a girl that somehow got caught up in something that she didn't understand. No, she seemed to have a lot more under her attractive exterior then she was letting on. I still didn't understand why she was here though, but I wanted to wait just a bit longer before I asked.

"So…" she paused to swallow some eggs, "who is that across form us?"

I glanced over to see him sprawled out on his cot with his empty plate on a small table he had in the corner of his cell. "Oh, that's Damien."

She looked at me insisting that I finish. " Aaand?"

"That's it… that's all I know about him."

She laughed a little louder this time. I could tell that she was lightening up a bit.

After about 10 minutes of eating and small talk, I figured it was time for me to ask her the big question, but she beat me to it.

"Robert…why are you here?" she asked with a sincere face.

I sat on the dresser directly across from her, "Well…why do you think I'm here?" I was simply curious to see how good her intuition was.

"Well, since I really shouldn't be here I'm going to take a WILD guess and say that you shouldn't be here either." She made a gesture towards my wedding band. "I also noticed that you have a wedding band. And not only that you have a tattoo of a wedding band underneath and something like that doesn't say prisoner…to ME anyway. Besides, you just don't seem like the type of person that should be her." She finished with a smile.

"Your pretty observant kid." I added with a grin. Her personality reminded me so much of my wife…Michelle. Beautiful and strong willed.

"Thanks… so, what's her name?"

I swallowed hard at the thought of her, "Her name was Michelle."

"Was…" it didn't take her long to understand, "Oh god…Robert I'm so sorry."

I stopped her there, "Claire, its fine don't worry about it." I figured I'd fill her in on the love of my life. Plus it would just be nice for me to talk about her. "We were soul mates. She had long brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes…and the most amazing smile. We had known each other since we were 4 years old." I paused before telling her how she was taken from me. "It was about 6 months before I ended up here…she died in a car accident." I paused after that was said, reminiscing on the thought of her. "I miss her so much."

"Robert." she added sincerely.

"It's fine…really. Anyway back to how I actually got here." I shook the feelings of despair away and continued. "I was in the military, once. My chopper went down in the Congo in 1998. I was the only one who survived the crash. I passed out and when I came to, I was in this cell. My family probably thinks I'm dead."

"That's terrible." I could tell that she actually felt sorry for me. But I knew that wasn't what happened. That was the story of how an old cellmate of mine got here, I figured he wouldn't mind since they took him god knows where. I figured I would spare her from the horrors of how I really got here.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get here?" She traded a look of joy for one of sorrow. I could tell that it wasn't good, "I didn't mean to…"

"No no, it's ok. It's just kind of…complicated." She took in a deep breath to prepare herself.

I leaned in and gently patted her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her for whatever it was that she was about to reveal to me. "Take your time." I said as I retracted my hand. She sent a brief smile my way as payment for the gesture.

"It's actually a long complicated story but…long story short I kinda came looking for someone."

"Here?"

"Yeah…someone told me that he was here."

"He?" I said in a taunting voice. After seeing her cheeks turn bright red because of what I said, I knew that he was probably her boyfriend or something.

"Yes him. His name is Steve, anyway he suppose to be dead but…" I could tell that it was hard for her to think about him. "I mean I SAW him die but…" she whipped a tear from her eye "you probably think I'm crazy, Huh?"

It was at that moment that I realized that she had probably had a few run-ins with Umbrella in the past. And this Steve guy probably went through the same bullshit that I had to go through; becoming an unwilling lab rat for their experiments. I believed her. I knew a lot more about the subject of returning from the dead then I let on. There was no doubt in my mind…Steve was alive. For a moment the memories of that terrible night tried to fight their way to the surface, but I managed to hold them back as I have for the past 10 years.

"Well honestly Claire, if he IS alive, he would be here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I don't know for sure but I'm willing to bet that most of the people that are here, got here in a similar way that you and I did."

"Do you think there is something else going on here?"

"To say the least; I can't even remember how many men have passed in and out of this cell block, and I've heard a lot of terrible rumors."

"Well at least there is a chance he could be…." she was interrupted by the sound of a massive explosion. The shockwave shuck the cellblock to its foundation. The force knocked us to the ground. A second explosion, larger and even more thunderous than the first, soon followed. The shockwave of this one caused small pieces of rock to fall from the ceiling. At this time I was drifting in and out of consciousness. Even then I had a felling the worst was yet to come.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Song of the infected

A defining ring was drowning out all other noise. It took me several seconds to get my vision back from the disorienting blur. For a moment I had no clue where I was, but seeing Claire lying motionless on the ground quickly jogged my memory.

I staggered to my feet, "C-Claire?" I shuck her, gently at first but more urgently when she didn't respond, "Claire…CLAIRE?!"

She finally began to stir, "Uhhh…god my head." I glanced at her left arm as I helped her to her feet. It was covered in blood. No sooner after I noticed it, she felt it. "Gaaa….damn it!" she fell into me, clutching her shoulder in agony.

"Easy, I gottcha." I grabbed an undershirt that I noticed on the ground and wrapped the wound. It was pretty nasty looking. "We need to get this stitched up."

"Great," she cringed again as I tightened the shirt. "Gaa…FUCK!"

"Sorry but I need to stop the bleeding." I said with a smirk.

She replied in a much calmer voice, "No, its fine… I've been through MUCH worse."

I helped her to her feet. Something caught our attention from across the dimly lit cell block. It was Damien charging out of his cell to the guards control room down the hall.

Claire chuckled, "Well looks like it's just us."

"Well, that's wonderful."

Suddenly, we were directed towards the direction that Damien had went. A man's voices cried out in agony; then, only silence. I made my way to the bars of the cell and silently directed Claire to stay back. We both listened in for anything, but still only an eerie silence. That's not something you could expect after being bombed. Then, just as quickly as the stillness began, it was broken by the sound of footsteps. But it wasn't the sound of combat boots; it was the sound of bare feet. It was Damien.

I took a few steps back from the door as he approached, not sure of his intentions. He tossed a crudely made shank, doused in blood, to the ground as he reached the door. To our surprise, he unlocked it.

"Hmm…guess I was wrong." Claire added with irony.

He turned towards the guard's station and motioned for us to fallow. As soon as we were clear of our cell, I rushed to check on Blake. Unfortunately, I was stopped by Damien's hand on my shoulder.

We locked eyes and Damien merely shook his head, insisting that I don't venture any further. Without even speaking I knew what he was telling me. Blake was dead.

"What's wro…" she understood after seeing our faces. "Robert…"

"….it's fine; let's just get the hell out of here." I added after the awkward moment. This was the second time that Claire showed compassion for my loss. I didn't understand it; she hasn't even known me for an entire day and yet she sounds so sincere. This Steve is a lucky man.

We turned and made for the exit, and hopefully I would find out where the hell I've been for the past 9 years. As we neared the guard's station (to my surprise) we were stopped by Damien, "Claire, we need to get that stitched up… now." He said in a deep but friendly voice.

I was in shock. "Wow, you can talk?"

"Sorry, but I didn't really want to have to yell across the fuck'n hallway every time I wanted to say hi." he said with a big sarcastic grin.

I countered with just as much sarcasm, "HA…understandable."

He directed his attention back to Claire, "But seriously, you're losing a lot of blood

"…Alright." she replied, unsure of what was about to happen.

We entered the guard's station cautiously. The room was empty and medium sized; about 20ft by 15ft. Two of the walls were plain grey concrete; the other two had a large ( what I assume to be bulletproof) glass windows. One overlooked the cell block and the other the hallway leading there.

We began searching the room for any of the items that we would require to fix Claire's arm. While she and I were investigating the two large desks that were against the cold bare wall, Damien was searching the opposite side for medical supplies.

"Hey." Damien said to get both our attentions. As I turned around, luckily my reflexes were still good enough to catch the loaded berretta 9mm that Damien had hurled at me. As I was checking the firearm, he turned and walked over to Claire with two of the same pistols. He presented one to Claire with the handle facing her and the barrel towards him. "Do you know how to use this?" he asked, assuming she had never even seen a gun before. I thought the same. Needless to say…we were both wrong.

She gave a weak chuckle looking to Damien, then taking the gun. To our surprise she checked the clip, slid back the slide allowing the bullet to be visible only for a few moments before releasing the slide with her thumb, pushing a bullet to enter the barrel. She clicked the safety on before sliding it into the back side of her bright orange prison pants, leavening only the hammer and the handle of the gun visible above the surface. "Yeah, I think I'll be fine." she added with sarcasim.

We both smiled in amazement, "Well…good." Damien said with a grin.

"I grew up with guns, my father and brother were both in the service. So yeah, I kinda know what I'm doing."

As Damien readied his Beretta, I noticed a map of the prison on the desk. Strangely, the prison was only one story tall and only had 8 cell blocks; 4 on each side. It was built around a central building in the middle, probably a lobby of some kind. It may not have shown where we were but it did show us how to get out of the prison.

"According to this there's an infirmary in the central lobby. Let's head there." I told them.

"Alright then let's get moving. Then we can get out of here." Claire said as she started for the exit.

We made our way down the hall and through the double doors that would lead us to the infirmary, and then the exit. We cautiously made our way down the dimly lit hallway. We were stopped several times by the distant sounds of gunfire and blood curdling screams. Even with the possible chance of a gruesome death awaiting us in the distance, we pressed on into the unknown.

"Shit!" Claire said with an urgent whisper. "Something's going down up there."

Damien was on point with Claire and I not far behind. Claire was the only one not to have her gun drawn. I figured it would be better for us if I watched Claire's back until she could use her arm again.

We neared the end of the hallway which was sealed by double doors. Luckily there were lights to reveal a sign that read "Infirmary".

"Hold up, I'll check it out." Damien hesitated at the door before rushing in to clear the room. After only a few moments Damien returned and gave us the all clear.

Claire and I neared the door, "Ladies first."

She gave me a coy smirk as she passed through the door I had propped opened, "Gee thanks."

I locked the door behind me just to be safe. Damien did the same to the doors on the opposite side of the small room. Before making his way to the medical storage closet, he stopped to clear off a steel examination table for Claire. "Hop up." he said gesturing for Claire to take a seat.

"Great." she said with a sigh.

"Wh…what's wrong?" I asked with a cackle as she made her way onto the prep table.

"Nothing, I'm just not a big fan of the doctor."

Damien, to our surprise, had already acquired the items he required and placed them on the table. "Relax," we both looked to Damien, "I'm not a doctor."

"Well that makes me feel better." Claire said with sarcasm.

"Calm down, I might not be a doctor but I have done this before." he prepared his supplies.

"Well that makes me feel…Ahh!!" she cringed as he removed the shirt from the wound.

I got a little irritated, "Hey, go easy on her."

"Or at least warn me." Claire scorned.

He apologized swiftly, not wanting to get on either of our bad sides, "Sorry, it's been awhile since I've done this."

"It's…its okay. Just a little warning next time." she shot him a coy smile.

"Here comes the alcohol." he said before gently cleaning the wound with a rag doused in the liquid.

She bit her lip and cringed frequently as he ran the towel over the tenderest parts of the gash. He finished as soon as he began. He readied the needle and thread to begin sowing up the gash. "Alrighty, I know it's gonna be hard but you have to try to stay as still as possible for me. It shouldn't take that long."

He locked eyes with Claire waiting for her approval before beginning. She closed her eyes and took in a final, deep breath, "Ok, I'm as ready as I'll ever be." She gave just a slight cringe as she watched the needle pierce the skin.

I figured I should go and try to find her some pain killers. I began to comb through one of the larger medicine cabinets looking for anything that would ease her pain.

"What are you looking for Robert?" I heard Claire ask from a distance.

"I'm trying to find you some pain killers for you." I said over my shoulder.

"Kay, all done." Damien said cutting off the last of the excess string.

"Wow." she said enthusiastically as she hopped off the table. She examined the newly fixed wound; "Hmm…that's a lot better." she turned to Damien with an outstretched hand. "Thank you."

Damien glared at her hand for moment before grasping it. "…no problem."

During their little transaction, I managed to find some pain killer that would ease her pain but not hinder her mentally.

"Claire…" I tossed the bottle of pills at her gingerly. To my surprise, she caught it with her left hand.

"Huh, guess you do feel better?" said Damien with a cocked eyebrow. He poured her a plastic cup of water from a nearby sink to help her take the pills. "Here" he handed her the cup as she readied two of the capsules.

"Thanks." She tilted her head back and downed both the pills and the water. She placed the bottle in her front pocket and drew her gun.

Both of us soon did the same.

"Alright we shou…." I was interrupted by another distant explosion that knocked the power out.

"Shit…what now guys!?" Claire urgently asked as we all gained our bearings in the darkness.

I noticed through the narrow glass windows of the double doors (opposite the ones we came in) that the flood lights had kicked on, providing just enough light to see down the hallway to the main lobby.

By this time, both Claire and Damien were at my side peering down the eerily lit hallway. It was quiet, at first. But that silence was soon broken by the sound of distant gunfire and screams.

"We should help them." Claire reached for the door.

"Wait." I said stopping her from grasping the handle. I didn't understand it; these were the same men that probably treated her like shit, yet she was ready to go into God knows what to save them. But it was a good thing that I stopped her.

Not long after I had halted her advance, a mortally wounded guard stumbled across the entrance to the main lobby from this hallway (about 20ft away) bleeding profusely from his shoulder. As he almost reached the other side, but he stopped to draw his gun and fire on someone. Two inmates with pale white skin and missing hunks of flesh tackled the guard to the ground just out of sight. All that could be heard was a blood curdling scream, then…only silence.

"Oh…oh god." Claire whispered with disbelief.

"Jesus Christ…" Damien was baffled, "what the fuck was that!?"

"I…I don't know." I had to act bewildered, even though I had seen it before.

No one was sure what our next move should be.

Claire took a deep breath and gathered her composure. "Alright… listen, I'll explain later but I know how to deal with those…things."

Damien was surprised; I wasn't but had to act as if I was. We both glanced over to her. "…Alright what do we do." I added with a nod.

Claire took a deep cleansing breathe before revealing something surprising to the both of us. "Alright listen," she got both of our attentions, "I'll explain later but I do know how to deal with those things. They can't be reasoned with; all they want to do is… eat you. Yes I said eat you." She wanted to make sure that we did hear her correctly. "Technically they are already dead, but the only way to put them down is to…"

"Shoot them in the head." Damien interrupted but not to be rude.

"Yes, how'd you know that?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Hun, I'm a pretty big George A. Romero fan. I'm ready for the zombie apocalypse."

"Ah, I see."

They turned their attention to me, "I think I get the point."

"Alright on 3…" Claire and Damien rested their shoulders against the double doors. Damien unlocked them, and then I continued with the countdown. "1…2…3!" They forced the doors open and the three of us rushed through at a steady pace.

We passed through the thresh hold of the archway that opened up into the spacey lobby. Not far to our left was the butchered body of the guard and to two inmates feasting on him. The sound of the ripping flesh was disturbing to say the least. For a moment I drifted out of reality and was placed back into that nightmarish hellhole of a city. That sound, the sound of teeth piercing flesh, the sound that I was all too familiar with. Luckily I was brought out of the fantasy before I was forced to relive the most _scaring_ part of the memory.

I was interrupted by gunfire from Damien. He dropped the two undead before they knew we were even behind them. Luckily no one notice my little moment.

Damien turned to us, "Is it bad that I found that a little fun?"

"Not bad, just weird." said Claire.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw one sneaking up behind Claire, with several more not far behind.

I darted towards her, gun drawn. "Claire, down!"

Without skipping a beat she dropped to one knee as I dropped the zombie. I helped her to her feet. She sent me a quick grin as payment.

"Uh guys…what now?" Damien regrouped with us after raiding the man's body for ammo. The song of the undead could be heard ringing down the empty corridors and cell blocks. A new one seemed to appear every minute.

"Oh yay." I said with sarcasm.

"You two cover me." Claire leaped over the main desk and began fiddling with the computer.

We quickly made our way over shortly afterwords and began firing.

"Claire…what the hell are you doing?" Damien asked in between shots.

"I'll tell you in sec."

After about a minute the bodies began to pile up, and we almost on our second clips.

"How's it coming!?" I asked urgently.

"Just…a minute…longer." After a brief moment she finished and made a brake for the door. "Come on let's get the hell out of here!"

"Wait, what did you do?" Damien asked as we charged for the exit.

"Checking the guest list," she held open one of the glass doors, urging us to follow, "now let's GO!"

With that said we left the prison and made our way into nearby woods. It had been forever since I had seen the outdoors, but this was no time to enjoy it. We followed a twisting dirt path that we found for about a quarter of a mile before resting in a small clearing.

Still in Roberts POV for a little more character development and I introduce another OC, Damien. Next chapter will also be in his perspective but after that I'll be switching to someone else to switch things up a bit. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading :) ...reveiws are welcome.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: He's alive

Claire was first to reach the clearing and collapsed onto a newly cut stump. We reached the clearing not long after her. I settled on a large rock while Damien just fell flat on his back in the dirt, gasping for air. We were all panting heavily, trying to catch our breath.

"How…long before…they catch up?" asked Damien through his exhaustion.

"…Awhile…they're not that fast."

"…good…"

Claire caught her breath a lot quicker than the two of us; we were all fit and in shape but Damien and I focused more on building muscle than on cardio… being in a 10x15 cell isn't the best for a cardio workout. Claire probably ran regularly, there for, she could recover a lot faster. I can't even remember the last time I even used my legs for running and judging by the state of exhaustion that Damien was still in, neither had he. But finally, after about a minute or so, we could breathe normally.

After I had thought about it for a second, I probably could have easily outrun both of them. But that was out of the question. I refuse to ever use that…_gift_ ever again. A _gift…_that's what _they_ told me it was…no, it's a curse.

Claire was hunched over on the stump, but to our surprise she had a slight smirk. She was just gazing off into the distance. Then, it hit me like a sack of rocks. She had looked for Steve on the computer. But that smirk didn't necessarily mean she found him, it could mean that she got herself into this shit for absolutely nothing. I had to know. "Claire?" I asked sincerely, actually hoping that he was here and that she didn't make a terrible mistake by coming here.

It was silent for a moment, but then she looked to me, and answered as if she knew what I was truly thinking. Her smile grew larger, "…he's here." She took a moment to gather herself.

Damien looked dumbfounded; sitting up and crossing his legs. He didn't speak, just waited patiently for us to fill in the blanks.

"It was a recent picture." She joyfully continued, hardly able to believe what she was saying, even though she had just seen it, "…same red hair, same blue eyes…" she gave a soft laugh to herself, "he has a goatee now…he's defiantly not the _boy_ I met 10 years ago, but it's still him."

I soon realized what she wanted to do next. She wanted to head back into the belly of the beast and look for him. If my assumption is correct about her and the boy's experience, he would defiantly be able to handle himself in this type of situation. I beat her to the punch, "Well then let's go get him." I readied my gun.

She looked to me, shocked at what I had just said. "W-What?"

"You heard me." I walked to her side. "I'm not gonna let you go back there by yourself."

We both looked to Damien, eager to hear his reaction. He just stared at us for a second or two before responding, "…what?"

Claire smiled, "Damien?" she asked emphasizing the femininity in her voice.

He gave a sigh and rose to his feet. "I'll come, on one condition."

"And what would that be?" asked Claire.

He pointed to his feet, "I get the first pair of shoes."

He had a good since of humor and luckily we did too. I think we both understood that he would have came with us anyway; if for no other reason than the fact that he really has nowhere else to go. As of right now, my impression of Damien is a good one. I'm willing to bet that Claire feels the same way about him. But there is something about him that is still…mysterious. Eventually he would open up to us, but right now we have to focus on finding Steve.

We began the trek back to the penitentiary. This time we paced our selves so not to be exhausted when we reached the complex. This also meant that I actually had time to take in my surroundings and possible have a better understanding about where I've been for so long.

The tree's where mostly all pine so the undergrowth of the forest was relatively clear, aside from a few scattered pine cones here and there. It was dead silent and the sky was ominously grey; allowing no sunlight through to aluminate our way. Oddly, there was also no wind what so ever, not even a gentle breeze, this actually made the chili 55 degree weather fell somewhat more bearable. But it was still a pain not having any shoes, but the smooth dirt path made walking less annoying.

It didn't take long for us reach the front gates. We stopped about 50 yards away from the now overrun entrance. I didn't even realize there were that many people in the damn place.

We ducted behind a downed pine to stay out of site. "What now?" I asked.

Damien looked to us both, "…backdoor?"

"Sounds good." Claire silently added.

We quietly made our way off the path and around to the rear of the building, careful not to draw attention from the lingering mob of the dead. Claire was several yards ahead of the both of us. We were also taking special care in our footing so not to step on anything sharp or harmful to our naked feet. Suddenly, Claire stopped and pointed to a dull pillar of smoke, spewing from one of the cell blocks.

"Look…"

"Well looks like we found a backdoor." I bluntly added.

After briefly searching for any infected, Damien rushed towards the gaping hole in the otherwise solid wall, gun drawn and ready to shot anything not human. Claire and I waited for Damien to give us the all clear. He entered the opening that was roughly the size of a hummer. He cautiously made his way through the exposed rebar and debris. After of few moments, he gave us the all clear, and we followed him back into that hellhole in search of Steve.

It was dark and gloomy inside this cell block. I took a brief moment to take in my ruined surroundings. Out of the six cells only two were not pulverized. Upon closer inspection, the scatter remains of those who once inhabited the cells could be seen everywhere.

Claire noticed the remains shortly after I did, "Jesus Christ." Claire then turned her attention to the large 3 that was painted red on the wall above archway that led out of the cell block. All of the color from her face quickly faded. Neither of us knew what she was thinking but it couldn't be good. "This…"her voice wavered, "this is the cell block were Steve was being held." I could tell that she was starting to lose the faith that she had only earlier gained.

Before I could open my mouth to try to provide some comfort, Damien, once again, beat me to it, "Claire," he placed a reassuring hand gently on her shoulder, "he's fine…look." He drew both of our attentions to one of the cells still intact. The door had fallen clean off of its hinges, "he was probably in that one."

The color soon returned to her face, "Thanks Damien." With that said she was back to her former self and ready to continue the search for her man.

We cautiously passed through the threshold of the door way into the hallway lit only by dim emergency lights. Continuing down the hall, I was slightly disturbed by the echoing sound of the dead ringing down the corridor. We stopped at the entrance to the guard's locker room.

Claire tried to enter but was stopped by Damien. "What are you doing?"

She looked at him, confused, "L-Looking for Steve."

I caught on pretty quickly that he was giving her a hard time.

"No no no…I know what you're really doing." He really had her going…it was hard not to laugh.

"W-What are you talking about." She was still oblivious; she honestly thought she had done something wrong.

"You just want to get the first pair of boots…I'm going in first."

He entered the room still as serious as when he first cracked the joke.

"You dick." Claire said through a chuckle.

I couldn't help letting a weak laugh slip out as I trailed her into the locker-room.

She shot a menacing look back at me, "That wasn't funny."

I would have taken her more seriously if she wasn't smiling, "Y-Yes it was." she just shook her head and continued.

It was easy to tell that she not only trusted me, but Damien now as well. She seemed to be comfortable around the two of us, and since we had someone who was experienced in our _unique _situation we could lighten up as well. I've always thought that you should make the best of your situation, and considering ours, this was the only way that we were going to make it out of here with our sanity. Plus, once we found Steve, it would be even easier to make it out with four of us.

The locker area was just as wide as it was open, with you guessed it, lockers lining both of the outer walls. Several feet directly in front of the lockers were wooden benches just as long. The showers were just beyond, on a slightly elevate tile-covered section of the room. Unfortunately several of the showers had been left on and nothing beyond the first few shower walls could be seen. The room was quiet warm and filled with steam. It felt more like a sauna.

Damien had already begun combing through the lockers and it didn't take him long to find a suitable pair. "Thank God." He said checking the size. He wasted little time slipping them on. After making sure they were securely fascine to his feet, he took a seat on the nearest bench.

"Feel better?" Claire asked with a risen eyebrow.

"Hell yeah!" he added without skipping a beat. "You know how long it's been since I've had a pair of shoes…a long ass time."

Claire and I began searching the other lockers for the same prize. I've never seen someone so excited to actually PUT ON a pair of shoes…come to think of it, I couldn't wait either.

Claire was the first to find a pair that fit her, "Feel sorry for this guy." she said lacing up the strings.

"Why's that?" I asked, truly having no idea why she said that.

She tucked the legs of her pants into the other boot and laced it up before continuing, "Because he's got some tiny ass feet."

Before we had time to laugh several gunshots rang out through the fog of the showers; soon followed by a loud "FUCK!!" …it was the voice of a man. We all darted towards the source of the sound. Everyone was frozen.

Claire urgently broke the silence, "Steve!?" she cried out charging into the mist. Before either of us had adequate time to react, she vanished.

We both rushed to our feet and without hesitation, fallowed Claire blindly into the sauna like room. Unfortunately our rush was soon slowed to a crawl due to the low visibility.

"God...why is it so fuck'n dense." Damien was frustrated.

I was too, and I soon realized that practically all of the shower heads were on full blast and as hot as the knob would allow. "Jesus Christ." I scorned slowly making my way through the haze. "Why is it so fucking big…damn." I was getting as flustered as Damien.

"Claire!" Damien began yelling for the girl. "Claire!"

I joined in "Claire!"

"…hold on, their coming to help…" faintly came through the mist fallowed by, "Damien! Robert!"

We could see the girl's silhouette bent over next to an unfamiliar one through the steam. The person was injured and from Claire calm call to us, it wasn't Steve. Once we made our way through, a more gruesome scene awaited us. The corpse of a zombie was lying motionless on the floor with a bullet hole between his eyes. But I did know the mortally wounded man…to my despair, it was Mike.

This area was nearly identical to the previous, only there were three doors instead of one.

He looked up to us, "H-Hey guys…long time no see."

Claire was kneeled by his side while Damien and I remained standing. But his wound was clearly visible. He looked like he had just been through a fuck'n meat grinder. The man was clutching his stomach, which seemed to be the primary source of his pain…and for good reason. After staring at it for a moment I noticed something horrifying…he was literally holding his abdomen together.

Damien noticed the wound shortly after I did and he offered what little help he could to ease his pain. He removed his wife beater and placed it over the wound; he knew he was going to die, he just hoped that this would ease the dying mans pain. Mike took over and clutched the shirt tightly over the wound; it seemed to help, even if it was only by a diminutive amount.

"Tha…thanks." blood was trickling from his mouth. I could tell he was in pain, but he insisted on continuing. "Listen…you're on a small island just off the coast of Washington state." I think I could speak for all of us when I say that it's the last place we were expecting to be. After coughing up a fair amount of blood, he continued, "There's something…something bigger than any of us going on, but no one knows exactly what…" He arched his back up, riving in pain but he forced himself to finish, "One more thing…there is a small town on the island…stay away from there. H-he didn't release the T-virus there…something much…much worse…something new." After delivering that chilling warning, his strength gave out and he was no more.

We were silent, unsure of how to react to this revelation…or at least that's how I felt. Claire seemed the most disturbed by this news; after all she had the most "experience" with the virus…besides me.

Without warning the door directly behind us was broken down by a very determined ghoul. Unfortunately for us he brought his posy.

Claire let out a shriek and leaped backwards towards the other door, stumbling to her feet. We were forced in the opposite direction by the hungry monsters. We were separated

"Robert! Damien!" she shouted in desperation over the swarm.

"Claire! Meet us in the main lobby!" I commanded having to retreat back from winced we came.

"Alright!" she disappeared into the room, locking the door behind her. Neither of us wanted to do that, but we had no choice. Besides, she worked extremely well under these "conditions".

* * *

Once again, thanks to everyone for reading, I hope your enjoying it so far. This is the last chapter in Roberts POV (at least for now). My hope is that, so far, I've raised a few questions in your mind and have intrigued you to keep reading. Reveiws are GREATLY appreciated and if you have any question, please don't hesitate to ask ;) Thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 4

WARNING: This Chapter contains strong language

* * *

Chapter 4: Reunited at last

I was on pushup 20 when the burn set in, but I was only halfway done. I still had at least 20 more to force through.

"34…35…36…" my arms were weak and they felt as if they could give out at any moment. "38…39…40." I hopped to my feet, satisfied. This is what my _new_ life consisted of now; wake up, work out, eat, sleep repeat. There really isn't anything else to do here other than exercise.

I collapsed onto my cot to recuperate; my muscles were on fire because (like every other day) I had pushed myself further than I should have. I really didn't care though; ever since they put me in this cell I've felt...different. It doesn't make any sense though; I don't have that stupid bitch's virus in me anymore.

As I rested my right hand on my tighten abs, I could feel the outline of the ony damn scar on my body. Most scars have stories but to say this one had a story would be an understatement. It was practically a perfect circle and one touch brought back all the terrible memories of both that day and the hell I'd been through afterwards, all for that stupid whore, Alexia's, fucking virus. I honestly don't remember very much during the transformation, just agonizing pain. God, the pain was indescribable. It may have resulted in my death but I didn't care, I was still able to protect her…Claire.

I felt a small smile brake out across my face, this always happened when she entered my mind. Those beautiful blue eyes, that dark red hair, that amazing smile, hell everything about her was breath taking. She is the only thing that gives me any drive to get the hell out of here. But the more I think about her, the more it actually hurts. I realized awhile ago that it's been ten years since we first met on Rockfort. Even though it seemed like she was starting to feel the same way about me, it didn't matter; I died and she probably moved on; got married, had some kids, or at least she seemed like the type to want marriage and kids…she'd make a great mother.

The last thing I remember saying was, "I love you Claire." I had to say it out loud. I just needed to hear myself say it. God what was I thinking? Then I woke up in a glass tube floating in some frigid liquid with metal divots in my spine, connecting me to some god forsaken machine. I looked up to see the two men that I would come to hate more than my own father; Albert Wesker and some other man even more sinister. I never came to know the other man's name, but I could definitely pick that bastard out of a crowd and if I ever saw him, I would do everything in my power to see him dead. That's one of the main reasons that I work out so damn much. I want to be able to make him suffer. That, and if by some chance I did get out and see Claire again, hopefully I could catch her eye, but that's highly unlikely.

I glanced over to the clock. It was almost 8:30.

"Well shit." I hoisted myself off of the bed and arched my back until it popped. My body wasn't burning anymore and I could actually feel the new muscle I had built. I wasn't a big meat head or anything, but I wasn't the frail little punk I was ten years ago either. I'm not sure what that man did to me to exterminate the virus without killing me, but I'm glad he did. I didn't have demonic red eyes anymore and pain dissipates a hell of a lot faster than normal.

After a moment of silence, I notice a noise.

"What the…" I slowly made my way to the bars of my cell and gazed across the cell block, trying to find the source of the annoyance. It sounded like a clock; it was an ticking. "What the hell is that?" It was coming from the cell next to me. I listened in closer but the sound faded.

"Huh…must have been…" I was cut off by a defaming explosion and a blinding flash of light; the force of the explosion threw me hard against the opposite wall. I heard a loud crack and it wasn't the wall. Everything was a blur and an intense pain soon blocked out all of my other senses. I fell flat on my stomach with a thud. God the pain was terrible. I slowly lifted my head with what little strength I had left. Through the smoke and chaos I notice that the door had been completely blown off. But I could do nothing about it. The searing pain and disorientation were too much. I faded into unconsciousness.

1 hour later…

It was eerily quiet except for the pounding inside my head. The silence was odd though; you'd think after a prison gets bombed there would be more of a ruckus. As much as I hated it, I actually had a lot of experience with this exact kind of situation.

It took only seconds for me to get back to my feet. I wasn't in any pain and didn't have a scratch on me. _Sometimes it pays to be a lab rat I guess_.

I gazed out into the ravaged cell block before venturing any further. It was filled with thick grey smoke that was billowing wildly out of the cell next to me and the wall that once stood dividing them was now crumbling. The heat from the still burning fire could be felt through the opening in the once solid wall.

It was hard to see through the thick curtain of ash; I could barely see past the entrance to my cell. Suddenly it hit me; _why the hell am I standing around, now's my chance to get the fuck out of here. _I could barely see past the entrance to my cell, so I inched over to it with caution. I peered into the smoke, squinting my eyes so I could focus and see a little clearer. After scanning over the area a few times, I decided it was time to move; it was time to finally leave this horrid place, or die trying. I made my way blindly out of the cell block and into the unknown.

I slammed the door to the guard's station with a thud; once in I heard a sound that brought back more horrid memories. It sounded like someone eating raw hamburger. _That better not be what I think it is. _Just as the noise stopped, I turned to confirm my suspicion. It noticed me just as I noticed it. The creature's cloudy dead eyes shot a familiar chill down my spine. That chill quickly changed to rage. That's about the time I notice a night stick out of the corner of my eye resting on an office table.

The demon let out a haunting moan and stumbled to its feet. I grabbed the baton and charged the bastard. I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to take out some of this anger that's been building up over the past several years. The beast had barely got its arms up by the time I reached him. I swung the club with full force directly at its right temple. I knew that I killed the damn thing the second I made contact; I heard a loud pop and it let out a weak hiss as it went limp. It fell to the ground like a rock and a small stream of thick red blood began to trickle from its mouth.

I gazed down at my victim and felt…nothing; no guilt, no remorse, nothing. It didn't take long for the former inmate's meal to return to life and try the same thing; but the outcome was the same. I didn't want to admit it, but it actually felt good killing them.

I cast the club aside opting instead for the fallen guard's pistol. I knew that would be the much better choice of the two, you know, having been in this kind of _situation _before. After checking the corpse and surrounding area for a minute, I only managed to find one fucking clip; and the gun itself only had about three shots left. "Well that's just fucking dandy." My only choice was to continue with this pitiful amount of firepower. I hate semiautomatics; it's fully auto or nothing. But this would have to do; this wasn't the time to be picky.

The clock caught my eye just as I left the room. It was 9:45. _Shit, I've been out for over an hour?_ There was no time to worry about that now, I have to find a way out of this hellhole; and who knows maybe I'll run into that son of a bitch who put me here and let him know what a wonderful stay I've had.

I left the guard room and passed through the double doors at the end of the hall. The air on this side was clear and easy on the lungs. The hallway was dark and lit only by the dim light of a security light. I drew my gun and began cautiously making my way down the dark corridor. On my way, I passed the door to the guards' locker room and ignored it, knowing it wouldn't lead to a way out. The end of the hallway broke off into a T with three doors; one a few feet in front of me, one on the left and one on the right. The one on the right was covered by rubble and impassable. _Well that one's out._ So now my options were straight or right. "Wonderful." After much deliberation, I choose the one on the left.

I silently made my way towards the door and peered through the window; nothing, so I cautiously entered. It was a rec-room; a fairly large room with two large circular table's in the middle, each with a set of six chairs. Off in the left corner was a decent sized television with various game systems that I've never seen before; one black standing on in, a small rectangular white one and a gargantuan jet black one that read Playstation 3 across the top. _There's a THIRD one!? Lucky bastards. _ When I was still a normal teen, I had a Playstation, I had no clue there was a Playstation 2, not to mention a third. Just beyond the television was a door that led to god knows were. The entire other half of the room was basically a kitchen. A long counter top ran across the entire right wall; equipped with a sink, fridge and microwave.

This may have not been the time but I really didn't care, my stomach was growling. I ventured over to the fridge to raid it but just as I reached for the handle, the mysterious door flew open in a flash. I drew my gun only to lower it again. A young woman had rushed into the room in a panic with a swarm of ghouls not far behind. She was so preoccupied with barricading the door with whatever she could find, she hadn't even noticed that someone was in the room with her.

My eyes had to be playing tricks on me; it couldn't be who I thought it was. I had to be going crazy; those sky blue eyes, that beautiful brown hair (it was a bit longer than I remember but still), those lips. It was her, I couldn't' be going crazy; it was Claire…Claire Redfield. After finally wedging a chair tightly under the door knob, she leaned up against it, catching her breath. She was bent over slightly and her bright orange prison pants hugged her rear nicely; it was her alright.

I wasn't sure if I should say something or wait for her to turn around, but she still hadn't even noticed I was in room. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it was gonna burst out of my chest. So many questions flooded my mind at once. _Would she recognize me? What was she doing her? _I felt my eyes grow wide seemingly by themselves when one final thought crossed my mind. _Oh God, I told her I loved her right before I died. What the fuck is she going to say when…_

"Steve?"

I didn't even have time to finish my train of thought; she saw me. Her face was just as stunned as mine. She slowly started towards me. _This couldn't be happening; this can't be real. _The angel stopped just inches in front of me, looking me up and down slowly. From the look on her face, she couldn't believe it either.

Seemingly knowing exactly what she was looking for; she tucked her cold hand under my shirt and ran it across my trim stomach until she found the scar. She jerked slightly when she made contact. Those beautiful blue eyes started tearing up, so I did the first thing that came to my mind, regardless of how stupid it might have been then, and now. "H-hey beautiful."

Her damp eyes grew wider as they looked up to me with a smile. "Steve!" she yelped as she leaped into my arms and gently laced her arms around my neck; bracing herself for our first kiss. It was amazing; for the first time in ten years I felt another emotion other than hate or anger…joy.

She pulled away gently after what felt like an eternity. She smiled, "Y-you know, you could have done that on the plane…I wouldn't have stopped you."

I thought for a second (trying to remember the moment she was talking about) then realized she was talking about the plane ride to Antarctica. "Oh god, you were awake?" I chuckled. I could feel my face get hot from the embarrassment, but I was flattered she felt that way.

Her eyes were still filled with tears but I could tell these were tears of joy. She buried her face in my chest as she shifted her arms to my torso. What Claire said next left me speechless and I would have never expected it in a million years.

"I love you too Steve."

* * *

YAY! Steve and Claire reunited at last :)

In the POV of Steve, I tried to make him seem alittle darker than he did in the games because of his "situation" (which you will find out more about in later chapters). Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are welcome and appreciated :)


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: A Familiar Face?

He couldn't believe what Claire had just said. This whole time Steve thought that she'd moved on from him. Never in a million years did he expect the words _I love you_ to pass through her soft, succulent lips.

Claire dried her eyes and looked up to her Romeo, who hadn't said anything since her confession. He was just staring vacantly over the top of her head, dumbfounded. Steve was still having a hard time realizing that what had just occurred was no dream. Claire was quick to realize this and understood his plight. Steve had probably been to hell and back and had probably given up on a lot more than life. It was up to her to break his trance and was quick to come up with a solution. Perhaps a little more affection would do him good.

She reached up and gently placed her hands on opposite sides of his face. Then, Claire directed his gaze down into her eyes. His face was a bit ruff to the touch, but she didn't mind. He wasn't the boy she knew anymore, he was a man. Steve's eyes eventually found their way to hers. Claire gently ran the pad of her thumb across the thick patch of hair the resided just beneath his lip. "You know, I think you look pretty good with a soul patch."

"Glad you like." he said with a smirk.

Steve couldn't resist, he had to kiss her again. With one hand on the small of her back and the other on the rear of her neck, he drew her in close for the romantic act. Claire was awestruck by this aggressive affection. She was caught with her eyes wide open while Steve's were tightly closed. This was the last thing she was expecting from him. Claire assumed that he would be shy and she would have to be the one making the first move; after all, he was only seventeen when they first met and judging by the way he acted around her, he probably wasn't that experienced with woman.

After a moment of letting it sink in, she embraced his shocking advance and melted into his arms. His kiss seemed to make all of her troubles disappear, and she loved it. Unfortunately for the two lovers, this moment couldn't last forever. The sound of the dead lingering just outside broke them from their fantasy. They drew away from each other slowly.

Claire playfully touched the tip of her nose to Steve's, "You ready to get out of here…baby?"

The words seemed to catch him off guard, but in a good way. "Lead the way beautiful."

Claire took his hand in hers and together they ventured from wince she came. The two opted for the less direct but safer outdoor rout that Claire had taken to get back in. Once outside she explained how she came to meet Robert and Damien and that they were to regroup in the main lobby.

The air was cool but bearable and an ominous fog now blanketed the air. Luckily Claire knew the way around to the front of the complex. As they trucked through the woods, Steve quickly noticed that something was on Claire's mind, but he wasn't sure what.

"What's up babe?" those words escaped his lips as if they had been dating for years. Even though he had only known her for about a day, he could somehow tell when something was on her mind.

Truth be told, something had been annoying Claire ever since she meet Robert; it was nothing serious he just seemed familiar. "Hmm?" she looked to him, still cupping his left hand in her right, "oh it's nothing."

"Oh come on, you can tell me." he nagged.

"Well…there's just something about Robert that seems familiar for some reason, I feel like I've met him before...weird right?"

Curiosity got the better of Steve, "Hows he look familiar Claire?"

She hadn't really thought it out until now; he had light brown hair that was about the same length as Steve's and had dark blue eyes that made her feel…safe, as if he were a trusted friend. "Honestly, I really have no idea. I _know_ I've never met him before. There's just…just something about him that I can't quite put my finger on."

Steve released her hand and instead opted to wrap his arm around his woman's shoulder, pulling her in closer. To his surprise he not only enjoyed the gesture, but decided to do the same around his waist. Even though they both knew that in this type of unique situation, there was no time for acts of affection like a calm walk in the woods…but neither of them cared. In their minds they not only deserved it, they've earned it.

Meanwhile…

Robert charged through the door with Damien in tow, slamming the door behind them. It took only a few seconds for the two to regain their shattered composure.

"God I really don't wanna leave her back there." Damien barked in frustration.

"I know I don't like it any more than you do but she'll be fine."

As much as both of them wanted to admit it, he was right. They only knew the half of it though; she had been to hell and back on several occasions. Claire was more than qualified for this type of situation.

The two looked to each other for a moment before deciding to head to the main lobby. But instead of taking the familiar route, they opted to take a different path, one that would take them through the cafeteria, personal offices, and finally back to the main lobby.

After traveling down the gloomy hallway about 100 feet, Damien and Robert reach the doors to the cafeteria. They positioned themselves on opposite sides of the doorway, facing one another.

Damien looked to Robert, "Ready?"

He gave a silent nod and in an instant the two rushed the chamber, guns drawn. Even though they barely knew one another, the men were in perfect unison. Each knew exactly what needed to be done without even speaking. Damien cleared the right, Robert the left.

The room was a derelict and had to be the largest of the entire prison complex. The chamber was 20feet high, roughly 60feet wide and 100feet long. The tile floor was in relatively good shape aside from the freshly splattered blood underneath several of the festering corpses that riddled the floor. They met up in the middle after a thorough sweep of the room.

"All good, except for these poor bastards." he motioned his hand towards a large concentration of corpses.

Robert examined the battlefield that lay before him, "Well, there's a good chance that there are more survivors at least." bullet casings littered the floor along with dead bodies filled with holes.

Damien's face was one of disgust, "Oh…oh god that smells terrible." The stench could be compared to rancid ground beef.

Robert's wasn't reaction much different, "Let's just get the hell outta here in case any of these guys are playing possum." The men casually exited the room, leaving behind the horrors that lay within.

Not long after entering the hallway, Robert noticed a door that lead to a small supply closet. For some reason, Damien seemed interested. "Hold up."

Robert let out a sigh in annoyance, "Ha…what now, you already have a pair of shoes what else could you want?" he cackled.

"Very funny…asshole." that last part was said under his breath but with srcasim. He continued his desperate search despite Robert's remark. Damien kept up with the rummaging for a good two minutes.

His companion was still baffled; he could be looking for anything.

Suddenly, he struck gold, "Yes." he cried out but still being mindful of their situation.

He didn't want to admit it but Robert actually wanted to see what Damien was killing himself over. "W-what? What is it?"

At long last, Damien had finally found his prize…a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He popped one into his mouth and lit up before his comrade had time to react. He took a long, hard drag, "…god…that's better than sex." He looked up to Robert presenting him with a cancer stick.

He turned down the offer, "Better than sex uh? Have you ever had sex?"

"Used to, but it's been kinda hard lately." he laughed weakly, taking yet another puff of smoke. The man turned to Robert after returning to his feet, putting the back of his hand mere inches away from his face, "Guess you didn't notice this?"

His attention was immediately drawn to the wedding band around his finger and honestly, he was in shock. "No I hadn't noticed, and to tell you the truth, I wouldn't have believed it unless I had seen it."

He lowered his hand, "Really?"

"Really?"

The two soon realized that instead of exchanging in idle chat, they should be heading to the main hall to meet Claire. Damien slipped the pack and lighter into his pocket and the duo carried on down the long glass walled hallway. Office cubicles could be seen on either side of them.

"Probably really sucked to…" just as Damien was about to finish, something darted past his peripheral in the office space. He drew his weapon and spun in the direction of the disturbance. "What the fuck was that!?"

"What the fuck was what?"

Damien turned only his head to his partner, not dropping his guard for a second, "You telling me you didn't see that!?"

"No, what was it?" Robert might not have seen it but he believed him.

He examined the area through the glass more closely but whatever it was had vanished. "Swore I saw something."

The two continued cautiously into the oddly deserted main hall.

"Did…did we miss something?"

Damien took his time, searching everything within eyes view for any sort of clue as to why the room was vacant. "I'm not sure, but I don't like this."

Robert made his way back to the console that Claire was fiddling with before, opting to find out anything that he could. While he did that, Damien had something else on his mind.

"Rob, I gotta take a leak." Damien said this as if he had known him his whole life, casually.

Robert just glared at him, dumbfounded. "Ooookay?" as he disappeared into the restroom.

Just as he turned to face the monitor, Robert was struck by an immense pain searing in his head. The pain quickly overcame the man, causing him to drop to one knee, gripping his head in agony. "G-god, not now!" he whimpered with what little strength he could muster.

This had happened several times before, but never like this. Robert new exactly the cause of his crippling anguish. He had fought it off for so long, occasionally it would fight its way to the surface, each time becoming harder and harder to contain. It would be so much easier to just let it consume him, but he refused. While some like Wesker saw it as a God given right, he just saw it as a plague, a curse that robbed him of his humanity. He refused to give in.

"Gaaadamnit!" the pain began subsiding but there was always one more thing that followed; lose of conciseness. He opened his eyes only to have his vision begin to fade, along with his hearing.

Because of the pain Robert hadn't even notice who had entered the lobby with her companion in tow. He collapsed onto his back, fading fast.

He could hear frantic footsteps rushing to his side. "Robert!? Robert are you alri…" his vision faded, soon followed by his hearing. The last thing he saw in the dimming light was the silhouette of a young woman kneeling next to him with a much more masculine one close behind.

"Clai…"


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Rachael's Plea

The morning after Claire disappearance…

It was a crisp autumn morning and the suns warm rays had finely managed to pierce their way through the shifting clouds and into Chris's bedroom. He was still sprawled out across the king size mattress, like a puppy after a long car ride. Chris was still drained from his long and vigorous night with Jill. Ever since the two were reunited, they've been joined at the hip. While they've been partners for nearly ten years, their relationship was just that, strictly professional. But after Chris believed that Jill had been permanently taken away from him in a cruel twist of fate, he realized that she meant much more to him. Even after coming out of a comma and being put under the super human affects of P-30, it didn't take Jill long to realize her true feelings for him either. It was Jill that made the first move, Chris may have seemed to be the bold one, but he was quite shy when it came to showing affection for anyone other than his little sister. However, Chris had no problem showing Jill just how much he _loved_ her last night.

Jill quietly made her way around the bed to her sleeping hulk. It was ten thirty on a Saturday morning and she decided that he had slept in long enough. She paced across the white carpet in her bare feet.

Jill gingerly leaned down, practically placing her mouth directly on Chris's ear. "Time to wake up, sleepy head." she whispered seductively.

A small grin broke out across his rough face as he stretched. He chuckled, "M-morning babe."

The two met for a swift kiss before Jill broke away and turned for the dresser that they shared. She already had a on a pair of Levi's that hugged every one of her curves in the most flattering way. They clung to her backside even tighter after she bent over to retrieve a pair of low cut socks from her bottom drawer. Chris was quick to notice his girl friend's ass and was even quicker to let her know what he thought.

"Have I ever told you, that you have an amazing ass?"

After retrieving the socks, Jill slowly peered over her shoulder with her stunning blue eyes. She shot an enticing smile at her lover, rising back to face him.

Jill leaned in close and placed a soft gentle hand on his scruffy face. "I know babe," she kissed him, then drew away. "…you told me last night."

Jill walked to the end of the bed, snatching up a light blue shirt and pulling it over her tight frame.

"Where you off to?"

Jill chuckled, "Your sisters, I'm picking up Rebecca on the way and were heading to the mall to do some shopping." She left the room and made her way to the garage.

"Have fun, say hi to Claire and the rookie for me."

Jill pulled her silver Camery up to the curb just outside Rebecca's charming little two bedroom apartment. Without delay, she made her way out of the apartment and down the narrow concrete walkway, typing on her phone every step of the way.

Chris may still call the young girl a rookie but that is a title that she's surpassed. Rebecca is no longer the shy little greenhorn that she used to be back in S.T.A.R.S.; the horrors of the mansion incident killed that Rebecca a long time ago. She is now a full fledged paramedic and a lot more grown up. The only real physical change was her hair, it wasn't short anymore but long; it grew almost down to the small of her back. Rebecca refused to keep it confined and often opted to let it flow freely. The only time she confined it to a braid or a pony tail was when she was on the job.

Becca entered the passenger side, holstering her phone to her front pocket. "Hmm?"

"What's up?"

"Nothing, Claire's just not answering my texts?" she slammed the door and buckled her seat belt.

"I'm sure she's still asleep, it is Saturday."

"Yeah, guess we'll just have to wake her ass up."

The two laughed at the joke having no idea what actually lay waiting for them at Claire's place.

As Jill pulled into the narrow driveway of Claire's residents, it was clear that something was very wrong.

Rebecca was first to notice, "Jill, look!?"

Not only was the door slightly cracked but it was stamped with a bloody palm print.

"Oh God," Jill's voice wavered, "Claire!?"

The two sprung from the car with a jolt, not knowing what awaited them inside the manor. But it didn't matter, they had to get to Claire. Rebecca was the first to reach the door with Jill in tow.

She ran her finger over the blood, rubbing the small sample between her thumb and index. Becca's eye's grew wide, "It's fresh." she looked to Jill then cautiously through the open door.

"What!?"

"No, I mean it's still warm." As if things weren't urgent enough already, now they knew that Claire could be bleeding and she could still be around.

At this point anything could happen but to be honest, compared to most of the things they had gone through, this wasn't that shocking. But that didn't mean that the situation was any less dire.

The women stood on the opposite sides of the door, now poised to strike. With a quick glance accompanied with a nod, Jill broke through the thresh hold of the door, with Rebecca right behind. They entered with caution; the intruder could still be in the apartment. The two were very familiar with this place, being like Claire's sisters they spent more time here than at their own homes.

"Claire!?"

"Claire!?"

"…Claire?"

They traded off yelling for the girl for several minutes, until meeting back up in the living room.

"Anything? Anything at all?" Becca asked in desperation. Her feelings for Claire's disappearance were evident in her eyes.

Jill hated uttering the word, "Nothing."

Without warning, the glass sliding door to the porch slid open and in the archway stood a rather tall, physically fit man. The two women quickly noticed that the man was pointing a silenced 9mm in their direction. Jill's usually majestic blue eyes quickly turned into eyes of passionate rage; rage directed at the man who she thought had done something to her future sister in law. "What the hell did you do with Claire?" she asked in a calm but extremely unfriendly tone; both of them hadn't failed to notice the gun.

Rebecca wasn't too thrilled with their guest either, but she remained calm enough to notice something odd about the man. His eyes were blood shot and tired; hair was short and brown, but that wasn't what stood out about him to Becca. It was his fingernail polish. The man's finger nails were paint jet black. She couldn't wrap her head around this, _Why the hell does he have black fingernail polish? _

"Relax," the man was bleeding profusely from his side and was riving in pain with every word spoken, "she's p-probably fine." he gave a sarcastic chuckle.

Rebecca broke her gaze from his finger tips, "What the hell do you mean, probably!?"

"Well, I'm actually here looking for someone else…" as the brute stopped to cough up some blood onto the carpet, a women silently dropped down behind him, drawing a six inch K-bar from her ankle. Jill and Becca were quick to notice, but were to slow with their reactions to give the man any heads up that she was behind him.

With great precision and speed, her blade was resting on his throat and had him disarmed simultaneously. With a brutal howl she viciously ran the blade over the man's muscular throat. The knife had penetrated well past the esophagus and through the vocal cords, so he let out noting but a chocked yelp. Blood spewed from the gaping wound and painted the white walls and crpet red as the man fell to the ground; eyes rolled to the back of his head. The blood fountain had barely reached the girls, merely splattering at their feet.

They were in shock and had no idea what to expect next. Even though the adrenaline was running strong through their veins, it felt impossible to move. But oddly enough, this woman didn't give off the same bad aura to them as the man did; something was different about her. While her eyes were strained they weren't ominous or frightening; her green eyes were filled with sorrow and regret for what she had just done. The woman herself was beautiful and didn't seem like the type of person to be a cold blooded killer. Her long black hair flowed freely down her back and her skin was otherwise flawless aside from a few cuts and bruises from a prior altercation.

"W-who are you?" Jill barley managed to squeeze that question passed her lips.

No response, she just continued to stare at the man's corpse.

"WHERE'S CLAIRE!?" Rebecca was fed up and wanted answers.

Still nothing.

"Where the hell is she!?"

Finally she broke her trance with the corpse and slowly rose to face the enraged vixens. "…Claire is in good hands."

Jill's eyes narrowed and her eyebrows turned inward, "What the FUCK are you talking about _In good hands_!?"

She drew a deep breath before continuing, "Listen, Claire will be fine and I'll explain everything later Jill but right now you have to take me to Chris…it's not safe here."

It seemed just as things couldn't get anymore fucked up, she knows Jill's name and knows that she can take her to Chris. What else did she know?

"Wait how the hell do you…"

The woman looked to Jill with remorse and tears, "P-please? I'll explain everything once you take me to Chris…" she pleaded with not just Jill, but Rebecca as well. "Y-you're the only people I know I can trust."

* * *

Short chapter and a change of scenery. Introduced Jill, Rebecca, and Chris into the story...and Rachael's not dead :) Hope your enjoying it so far. Reviews and Contructive Criticism are very welcome.


	8. Chapter 7

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE

Chapter 7: Uninvited Guest

Chris let out a roaring yawn walking from the kitchen to the living room, coffee in hand. He plopped down into his favorite tan lazy boy. He usually didn't get much time to himself but with Wesker dead, that would likely change. Not to mention the unexpected pleasure of being reunited with Jill. Chris was looking forward to spending some time at home, relaxing for a change.

"Hmm," he grunted, "finally get a day off and there's still nothing on."

But that relaxation was quickly interrupted by the sound of the garage door.

He was stumped, "Home already?" Chris sprung from the chair a moment later to greet his fiancé.

Hearing the slamming of two car doors wasn't too surprising, '_Must have brought Rebecca back with her'_. But just as suddenly as he was surprised by Jill's quick return, something else startled him. Chris stopped just short of the door to the garage; there were three sets of footsteps instead of just two, and if that weren't daunting enough, (aside from the awkward silence) someone was coughing. But this wasn't an ordinary cough; it was groaty and the person sounded as if they were on the verge of vomiting. Suddenly he felt a fear sweep over him that he hadn't felt in nearly ten years…'_Claire_!'

The grizzly man burst through the door nearly knocking it off of its hinges. Rebecca had nearly reached the door by the time it was flung open but Jill was close behind with someone unfamiliar to Chris clinging to her for dear life, Rachael.

In the midst of the confusion back at Claire's place, she hadn't realized just how badly she had been hurt. The soldier had been badly beaten, cut, and shot at least twice. But she was determined not to die.

"Wha…who the hell is this!"

Rebecca was quick to answer, "We'll explain later Chris, but right now we have to make sure she doesn't die."

"Wait…WHAT! Where the hell is Claire!"

Jill stopped just long enough to look to him and answer the only way she could think of, "…I don't know," she looked to Rachael then back to Chris, "but she does."

Rebecca closed the blinds and was quick to clear everything off the kitchen table.

"Alright, easy does it." Becca helped Jill hoisted Rach onto the table.

She let out only a small, muffled whimper as she laid her head back.

By this time he was right next to the girls. Chris had no idea what was going on but he knew if he wanted to find out he would have to help them.

Soon all of their training kicked in and they began to function like a well oiled machine. Jill had already rushed up stairs for towels and other medical supplies.

"Becca, what are we dealing with?"

She began the examination, "Several minor lacerations, and two gunshot wounds."

"A-actually…it's three." Rachael managed to work out of her clinched teeth.

She said this just as Jill returned from upstairs. _To think of the fight that she had to go through to get these wounds, not be dead, and still be able to join in the conversation about her own injuries. Impressive wouldn't even be able to describe the amount of training that she must have endured to become this good of a warrior. If SHE'S this good, then who the hell taught her? _She scared herself a little just thinking about it.

After closer examination, Becca found it, "Wow, your right."

Rach managed to raise her arm just enough to point to a bloody hole in her leg, "The bullets…still in there." She wrenched her back slightly in discomfort.

"How do you know?" Chris foolishly asked.

Suddenly the woman's cool demeanor dramatically changed as she spun to grapple the man's shirt and pull him in close. "Because I can FUCKING feel the damn thing scrapping up against my goddamn FEMAR!" she snarled, releasing the stunned Chris merely because of her exhaustion.

"Wow, someone likes you?" Jill cackled.

Chris just shot her a menacing glare in return.

After examining the leg wound herself, it was clear, "Jill she's right, I gotta get this out."

As if they could read each other's minds, they acted. Jill tossed Becca a scrunchy to bind her hair back as Chris retrieved several of the towels that Jill had brought down stairs and handed Rebecca a pair of sutures. Jill moved to the woman's upper body while Chris positioned himself at her legs.

They all looked to Rach, then to Becca; Becca then turned to Rachael, "This is going to hurt…a lot."

Just as everyone began to take their spots, "Wait!" she cried out. Leaning up just enough to unhook her belt-buckle and release it from the confines of the loops. She proceeded to overlap the leather strap and place it up to her lips. Looking to Chris then to Jill, grinning she said, "Don't want to scare the neighbors."

Rach slipped the belt into her mouth and gently clinched, laying her head back and bracing herself for the pain that was about to ensue. With a swift nod from Becca, they began. The second the tool passed into the meat of her leg, her again calm demeanor was quickly replaced with an animalistic one. She arched her back nearly a foot off the table, but it was quickly subdued by the quick actions of Jill. Chris kept her legs as still as he could while Becca searched for the projectile in her thigh. Her eyes were chillingly wide open and filled with pain. The two quickly noticed, that even through all of this pain, she could still retain enough conscious thought to keep herself from flailing everywhere like a fish out of water (at least to a certain extent). But there's only so much pain one person can endure, no matter how well trained and she had reached her limit.

"Just a little…GOT IT!" but just as Becca began to celebrate, Rachael had already passed out.

Immediately after the brief moment of silence, Rebecca began stitching of the wound and tending to the remainder of her laceration. A thought came across Jill's mind, "Chris, can you take her down to the basement so she can rest?"

He wanted to say no; he wanted to just wake her up now so he could find out what the hell happened to his sister, but he knew his vixen was right. With a simple nod he gingerly scooped up the woman and made his way down to the basement, Becca close behind.

Rebecca sat in a recliner adjacent from Rach and turned on the television to some soap opera that he (of course) was unfamiliar with. "Chris, I'll stay down here and keep an eye on her; I'll let you know when she wakes up."

"Thanks."

As he turned back up the stairs, he was stopped by Rebecca once again, "Chris, we're gonna get Claire back." She finished with a smile. Somehow, he knew she was right.

Once up stairs, Chris met Jill outside on the back patio. She was sitting in the porch swing set up cattycorner from their other outdoor furniture. Her chin was resting in her closed fist. The look on her face was a dull one and her blank stare shoot across the backyard and beyond into the wilderness. Most troubling of all; she was smoking Chris's Marlboro 100's. Jill would only smoke under the most stressful of circumstances, and this was obviously one of those situations.

Chris sat down next to her, grabbing the pack. "Gotta light?" he ask through the corner of his mouth.

With out even looking, she raised a gold lighter to the tip of the sig, igniting it once she was close enough. It was silent for a moment as he took a long drag on the cancer stick. Exhaling, he spoke, "So, what's going on?"

Jill said nothing at first but finally turned to look her man in the eye, not knowing what to tell him. Her eye's said it all; glossy and filled with sorrow. "Chris? I thought this was all supposed to be over and done with. Wesker is dead. Everything was supposed to be perfect now…you know?" She took a moment to take one final drag before stomping out the cig under her heel. Chris wrapped his right arm around her and pulled her closer. Jill chuckled, "This was our time to finally live a normal life. Settle down, get married, have some kids…you know, the American dream?"

A smile broke out across his face and the very mention of a future with Jill, "Yeah, I hear ya." She gently rested her head on his shoulder as he continued, "So, who is she?"

"Her name is Rachael Stone…we found her in Claire's apartment."

"Hmm, so she must have taken Claire?"

"No, I don't think so Chris."

He was a bit confused, "But I thought that's why we brought her here, to get her to tell us where Claire is?"

"Well if it wasn't for her, Becca and I might both have been killed by that man."

"What man!" they both turned only their heads and locked eyes.

"There was a man in her apartment, he was bloodied and had a gun pointed at us, I think he was their looking for Rachael?"

"Rachael? She introduced herself?"

"…she's the one who saved us and told us Claire was safe…"

Chris zoned out for a moment letting it all sink in. This doesn't make any sense, why the hell would she tell them that Claire was alright? She obviously knew something. But it was what Jill said next that was the most shocking to Chris.

"…she ask to see YOU Chris. She knew Becca and me by name and she specifically ask if I would take her to you."

He was awestruck. Why was he so important and what the hell did this have to do with Claire?

Just as Chris was finishing up his cigarette, they were interrupted by the sound of the patio door sliding open. It was Rebecca.

She looked to Jill for a moment before turning her attention to Chris, "Chris, she's ready to talk."

He was the first to stand, followed closely by Jill. "Good, cause I got plenty of questions."

…minutes later

The television was off and it was dead silent as the three entered the lowest level of the house. They positioned themselves around the women sitting on the couch, on a various array of furniture. Chris sat directly in front of Rachael, who had still yet to even acknowledge the presence of the others in the room; she was still slouched over, staring blindly at the floor with her cold green eyes.

Chris broke the silence, "So…I heard you wanted to talk to me?"

Nothing from Rach, not even a blink.

He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Did you hear me?"

She slowly looked up to lock eyes with Chris. He was a bit stunned.

"Why do you need to talk to me? Where is my sister!"

A smile began to brake from the corner of her face. "As I told Jill, your sister is fine…trust me."

"Why the hell should I trust you!"

She fell silent for a moment but then finished, "You shouldn't."

This came as a surprise to everyone in the room. The tension was now thick enough to be cut with a knife. "What the hell do you mean "you shouldn't"!" It was obvious the girls weren't too thrilled with that statement either. "Who do you work for! Where is Claire!"

The attitude of Rach quickly changed. Her loose dangling hands quickly became tightly close fists as she rose to face the man. "You want to know who I work for! I'LL TELL YOU WHO I WORK FOR!" She was now filled with rage, but not towards them; it was to herself. All emotion dropped from the faces of the three; they did nothing but listen to the infuriated woman's tirade. "I work for the man who, without a second FUCKING thought, hit the big red button that killed 100,000 fucking people in Raccoon City just to bring down Umbrella! I work for a man who is the head of an organization that is responsible for EVERY…SINGLE…FUCKING bio-terror incident since the fall of that damn company; and then uses his political influence," she ferociously pointed to Chris, "to send in your PRECIOUS BSAA to clean up his FUCKING mess! Or he just uses your asses to test out his new B.O.W.'s!" They were awestruck by this revelation. Chris could feel himself getting sick to his stomach just thinking about it. She paused only for a moment before continuing with the rant. "His name is Victor Crane. You've never heard of him because he isn't in any data base on this whole damn planet. He doesn't exist." Just as her rage seemed to be simmering down it boiled back over. "This son of a bitch has half the FUCKING world in the palm of his hand…" she collapsed into the couch and broke out into tears. She planted her face into her face and began to sob. "…this…SON OF A BITCH…had my head so fucking backwards…he had me thinking that everything he was having me do was for the good of the world." She looked up, still sobbing but not uncontrollably, "…this…this MOTHERFUCKER…turned me against my own husband." Her face fell back into her hands as she continued, "…I hate myself so much."

Those last words that she said fell harder than all the others. But it didn't take long for everything else that she had revealed to sink into the group. If what she had said was true, then everything that they've ever fought for; everything they're friends had died for was a lie and as much as any of them hated to admit it, maybe Claire getting kidnapped was the least of their problems.

Not knowing what to do to ease her pain, Becca did the first thing that came to her mind. She slowly rose to her feet, and to the surprise of her other two companions, sat herself next to the crying woman.

Slowly wrapping her arm around Rachael, she softly said, "Shh, it's ok…you came to the right people."

She broke away from her hands, smiling, no longer sobbing but the tears were still flowing.

Chris focused his gaze on Rebecca, then to Rachael. He didn't want to believe a single thing that she had just said; it couldn't be true. But on the other hand, he believed her. After thinking about it for a few moments; after remembering all of the nightmares of his past; all of the betrayal, the loss, the pain all of it had caused for both him and the ones closest to him. This actually shouldn't be that big of a surprise to him, but none the less.

He cackled, drawing the woman's attention, "Call me crazy…but I believe her Jill."

At first, Jill thought he was going lose his cool and just yell at the girl. This was the side of Chris that she loved the most; calm and collective. "Yeah, the scary thing is…I do too."

Rach leaned up and whipped her eyes, "Sorry about that, I don't usually lose it like that I just…"

"Don't worry about it, really its fine." Jill insisted.

She smiled.

Chris was the next to speak as Rebecca released her from her embrace, "So…would you mind starting from the beginning?"

"Not right now, right now we need to get to Washington State."

"Wait, WHAT!"

"Please," she pleaded, "just trust me. I'll explain everything on the way there, but we have to leave now. There's no time to lose."

The three were surprised but they didn't have much of a choice if they wanted to save Claire and find out exactly what was going on.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Revelations

They were on the road for a small town in Washington, less than a mile away from where Claire would be. They took Rach's advice and told no one where they would be; also carrying with them enough fire power to fight a small war. Even though the comrades were bracing themselves for the terrible truths that Rachael was about to reveal, no amount of training or experience could prepare them for the horror that was the truth.

"So," Chris turned to look at Rach from the driver's seat, "its gonna be several hours before we get there." He paused only to light up another cigarette and roll down his window, opting to not smother everyone else in the car with the toxins. "You wanna start from the beginning?" Chris said exhaling the refreshing smoke.

She took in a deep cleansing breath then exhaled. After Jill silenced the radio she began. "Alright, I'll start from the beginning. The organization was created in the mid 80's…during the cold war. Not long after the government discovered what Umbrella had really been up to all this time; perfecting the progenitor virus. It was originaly created to work with the company, on behalf of the U.S. government and to insure that biological weapons, such as the ones Umbrella were working on, didn't end up in the hands of the USSR. Another term of the deal was Umbrella had to make all of its records accessible at any time to the organization and keep them up to speed with all of their endeavors; in exchange the government would make sure to keep the press off their backs, should something leak. To insure that it could never be traced back to the government, the organization is basically its own separate entity operating within the U.S." Jill and Rebecca kept their focus on Rach as Chris, while still listening in closely, kept his eyes on the road. "They give them all the funding they need, no questions ask."

Jill interrupted, "But that doesn't make any sense? How do they get the money to them without anyone finding out, I mean, I assume that only a select few in the White house even know of its existence in the first place?"

"That's right, only the president himself and a hand full of people know of its existence; as for its funding, two words…pork fat."

The group was stumped but after giving it a few seconds to sink in, Becca figured out what she was telling them. "Ha…of course." She looked to the two in the front seat and explained, "Whenever you hear people complaining about wasted money in those big bailouts that the president loves to give out; you know, like three million dollars for studying the mating habits of crabs in Alaska."

"Exactly, basically all of the money that is unaccounted for in things like government bailouts and stimulus packages, ends up with them; they request it. And the saddest thing is, sometimes they're not even cleaver enough to hide it in between the lines. Sometimes the money just disappears, and when confronted about it they simply say "Don't worry about it". Anyway, the whole system works on trust. The person who is appointed the head of the group usually has a substantial amount of time in the military, secret service, or CIA; and you have to have enough brains to match your brawn. They prefer to pick someone who is well rounded in all these fields. Now here's where things start to go south."

Chris laughed, "And here I thought we were already at the South Pole."

"Victor Crane is the head of the organization now. Once of member of a special black ops unit of the Marine Core and has masters degrees from Yale and Harvard."

"Jesus." Jill whispered.

"And probably worse than his credentials, he is…he was good friends with Albert Wesker."

Their eyes widened and for a moment as the jeep fell silent. "You know…" Chris broke the silence, "is it bad that the most messed up thing that I just got out of what you said is… Wesker had a friend?"

Jill chuckled, "I found that strange too."

"While I'm not exactly sure how they met, I do know that they had been good friends for twenty-five years, and they remained friends up until the end, even though I'd seen them fight and bicker several times."

Rebecca jumped in, "You've seen Wesker?"

"I'll get to that. Now, you know how Wesker betrayed S.T.A.R.S. and Umbrella basically at the same time, correct? Well do you remember exactly what you found out about his betrayal of Umbrella?"

"I remember hearing that one of Umbrella's rivals had offered him a deal in exchange for Umbrella's viruses."

Rachael couldn't help but laugh at the state of blissful ignorance that Jill and the others were in. After being on the other side of things for so long, it was hard for her to see things from their perspective. "Is that what the report said?" she chuckled under her breathe, "Who's name was on it?"

"I don't remember the guy?"

"I wrote that report Jill." All of the attention instantly shift towards Rachael, "It was one of the first things Victor had me do as his knew left hand."

"What the hell does that mean, left hand?" Becca was intrigued.

Rach was happy to oblige her, "It's one of the terms he uses to describe the two people that he feels he can trust the most and have proven their worth in his eyes."

"Then who was the right?" asked Chris.

"Ada…Ada Wong."

Even though none of them had ever actually met the woman, they were all good friends of Leon's and they had heard stories of the infamous women in red. "Wow, talk about a small world." Jill added with sarcasm. "So, let me get this straight, you work…used to work for a very evil man named Victor Crane whose BFF was our good friend Albert Wesker and with the help of this big evil federally funded organization, they brought down Umbrella. And let me guess, Ada helped both of them obtain samples of the T, T-veronica, and G-viruses and Las Plagas, right?"

She smiled weakly, "Pretty much, but there's a little more to it, this is why I had to meet Claire."

The three instantly began to realize were this was all heading and why Claire got involved, Steve.

"I assume Claire has told everyone in this car about Steve Burnside at least once?"

"Yeah." Chris answered for all of them. He knew all too well how much Steve meant to Claire, even though they had hardly known each other. Love at first sight, or first shot in their case. After losing him, she slipped into a deep depression that Claire thought only a razor could solve. He'd never forget that day he found her in the bathroom. Chris shook the thought from his head, never wanting it to return. "Go on." He added, trying to distract him from that horrid memory.

"Did she tell you about his father and how he wound up there?"

"A couple times, why?"

"Because this worlds about to get a whole lot smaller. He wasn't taken to that island because of trying to make a quick buck by sell secrets on the black market, he was sent in as a mole, like Wesker, to make sure Umbrella was keeping up their end of the deal. Just as Victor had predicted, they weren't. Steve's father found the location of the secret Antarctic facility and all of the data on the T-Veronica virus, which the organization had no knowledge to prior. Before getting caught, he managed to send ALL of Alexia's research and the location of the base to Victor. After that…you know the rest." There was a moment of silence before she continued with one of the most shocking revelations of the discussion. "…Steve's alive. He came back to life shortly after Wesker left for Washington. Once there, he was handed over to Victor… and I'll spare you the details. I have no clue what he did to him, but what I heard wasn't good. After about seven years of hell, Steve was transferred to the islands prison alive and well."

"What's the prison there for?" Becca asked.

"Not for people who belong there, that's for damn sure. It wasn't until the fall of Umbrella that the prison was even built. With Umbrella gone, there was no one left to experiment with the viruses and create new B.O.W.'s so Victor adapted the whole facility with its own labs and the prison is basically used as a farm for fresh subjects."

The three didn't need to ask what exactly it was she was trying to say, it was painfully obvious.

"Claire is…"

She was cut off by Jill but the others seemed to know exactly what she was going to say, "You don't really need to explain that, all we needed to know was that Steve is alive. We can pretty much figure out why she's there after hearing that."

Rachael was actually relieved to hear that, she didn't want to have to tell them that she was the reason Claire was taken, even though they already assumed that. "I see."

"Why don't you tell us why you decided to turn over a new leaf?" Chris insisted.

Rebecca jumped in, "And keep in mind that we're pretty familiar with betrayal, so I wouldn't try anything."

Rach couldn't help but laugh. She knew that she wasn't going to stab them in the back but she admired their intuition. "Well I've worked for the man for sixteen years; I was suggested to them by my father after only two years of service in the Marines at the age of twenty. Once there, I underwent Victor's training course, which was required, and as much as it disgust me to say, it is what made me into this heartless bitch of a killing machine." She couldn't help but get a little emotional when thinking about her gruesome accomplishments.

"You're obviously not that heartless if you went through all of this just to tell my sister that Steve is alive; and you obviously have a conscious if you're asking us to, I assume help stop your boss before he decides to do something crazy."

She began to tear up, this time it was for the terror that she knew Victor was about to unleash upon the world. "Not before he DECIDES to do something crazy…but before he DOES something crazy."

The sense of urgency was now substantial as the comrades listened in closely, "Wait, WHAT!" Jill questioned in fear.

"Just before him and Wesker parted ways, three months before the Uroboros incident…"

"Wait, they were in contact the whole time!"

"Yes, while Wesker went off on his own path, he would still consult Victor from time to time. Anyway, three months before, I had overheard the two of the arguing over Wesker's plan." She paused not sure how to break this god offal news to them. They, of all people, knew of the dangers if a virus were to get out. "I heard Victor say that Wesker's plan was to…to forgiving, and that it would leave to many undeserving people alive."

They couldn't believe what they had just heard.

"WHAT!" Rebecca cried out.

"It gets much worse, while neither of them enjoyed the direction that mankind was heading in, they disagreed on how to "FIX IT" as they would put it. Wesker thought that he should lead those worthy of the next step in evolution, while Victor believes that this world is far beyond that; and that this world needs to be completely destroyed so that it can be…reborn. He kept telling Wesker not to go through with his plan, that it would never work, and to wait a little longer until HIS plan could be set into motion."

"And what would that be!"

"I have no idea but he's going through with it at midnight."

They remained speechless, frozen in fear of what was to come.

"I'm not sure what's going to happen but it can't be good. I'll I could dig up before I cut ties a fled is that there's A LOT more to the T-Veronica virus than even Alexia could have ever imagined."

Chris's eyes grew even wider when remembering the terrible memories of that bitch Alexia and what the virus did then, and apparently it can do even more.

"It has something to do with Steve and something else to do with an inmate named Robert."

Suddenly a sharp pain shot through Jill's body and her eyes grew at the mention of the name. It couldn't be him…could it? No, it can't be…he's dead, and not Steve or Wesker dead…he died in a helicopter crash.

"I'm not the only one who wised up, Ada is on her way too, and with any luck she'll have Leon."

For some reason things seemed to look up, even if it was just for moment.

"Great, I thought Wesker was a damn nutcase, but it turns out, there's a nutcase just as crazy as him. And to top it all off, he has unlimited resources and he's got half the world at his fucking finger tips." Chris added in frustration.

"So? What's the plan?" Becca added with an odd cheer in her voice. "Meet up with Ada and Leon and save the day I'm guessing?"

Chris chuckled, "You make it sound so easy." sarcasm thick in his voice.

"That's what I'm hoping," she looked down for a moment rubbing her wedding band gently with her thumb. "but no matter what happens Victor has to be stopped...at any cost."


End file.
